look at where we are (look at where we started)
by ipsa dixit
Summary: Theo stretches out a hand. It's a tiny gesture, but Blaise stil watches it. It's his move now. They've played this aggravating game of chess a lot. He knows how it goes./for ana


_for ana, because_ that's _how you write a happy ending. love you!_

 _thanks to rose, fruits, tiggs, shiba, and ck for betaing!_

 _prompts at the bottom_

 _2639 words, by google docs_

* * *

Blaise's shoes are covered in dust. It's a pretty ridiculous thing to think about now, with everything that _just_ happened, but that's all he can think about. There's dust on his shoes.

His mother would have shouted at him. His mother hated when he was messy. She was perfect, so he should be too. Well, look at him now! He's standing in dust and his shoes are covered in it and, to put icing on the cake, his hair is probably messy, too. He just fought in a war and ran around for a few hours trying not to die. It wouldn't be surprising if his hair was messy.

He should find Theo.

That's another thing he can think about. Theodore Nott.

He should find Theo, but he already knows he's not going to be able to. Theo hates Blaise. He has a good reason to.

Blaise just fought a war, yes, but he fought it on the wrong side. His left sleeve is slightly pushed up, Blaise realizes, looking down. He can also see the black outline. It's definitely fainter, thank Merlin, but if Blaise pushes it up, he's _sure_ that he'll still see it there. It. The _Dark Mark_. The reason he hasn't seen Theo since the war broke out.

Theo had never liked the side his father believed in. He had his own views, and strong ones at that. When Blaise told him that he had to get the Dark Mark, Theo — well, it didn't do any wonders for their relationship.

There's no one around him. He's standing in a west wing of the school, somewhere he and Theo had found _ages_ ago. Well, it _used_ to be a west wing. Now it's more like a pile of rubbish. Pillars that stood in the middle are collapsed, bits of the ceiling are on the floor.

And there's dust everywhere.

Blaise looks around and he takes the destruction of _just here_ in and then all the energy drains from his body, all at once, like it's been waiting to come out. Like his energy is the sap in a tree and the destruction is a spile, allowing it all to leak out.

He sits. There's going to be dust on his pants now too, but Blaise tries to shut off his Inner Mother and focus on _not crying_. He can feel tears at the corner of his eyes and even though there's nobody around, he's not going to start _crying_ in a public space. He just fixes his eyes on a spot on the floor, a place where the ground cracked somehow, leaving a mark.

How did he mess up this badly?

Merlin.

If he can go back in time to a different point, to when he didn't have to choose a side, to before he got the freaking Dark Mark, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Now, though…

It was too late.

What he will give to hear Theo's voice just _once more_.

"Blaise?"

Like that. Theo's voice, saying his name. Blaise can listen to Theo saying his name for hours on end. He loves Theo's voice. He must miss it so much that he's hearing it in his head.

He really is pathetic.

"Blaise?"

He just wants his brain to shut up. Theo doesn't want to speak to him. He has every right to hate him. The memories are too painful. He's better off without them.

"Blaise, if you don't look up, I'm going to assume you're dead and start crying and you _know_ I'm an ugly crier."

It's pretty obvious to Blaise that he's hallucinating, but he looks up anyway. What is he even expecting to see?

Not _this_.

Wow.

His auditory hallucinations must've spread to visual hallucinations because standing in front of him is someone who he didn't think he'd see again. Think of the devil.

"Theo."

Because even though it can't be real — it's _not_ real — Theodore Nott is standing right there, in all his glory.

There's a way that the sunlight hits Theo's hair that makes it so _light_. The morning hair is slowly raising behind him, setting a soft glow over the ground. Theo's hair is usually a nice light brown, but it seems to be _glowing_. Blaise's breath catches in his throat.

"Yeah," Theo says. He walks over to Blaise in a few short strides while Blaise remains sitting, watching his long legs.

"I —" Blaise starts to say, but he cuts himself off because, really, what _should_ he say? He has a strong urge to apologise, but for what? _How_ does he even apologise?

"I'm sorry," Theo says, sounding so genuine it makes Blaise's heart hurt. His normally bright eyes are darkened. Blaise looks into them, but turns away, scared that if he keeps on looking, he'll be able to see the war in them.

"Why?" Blaise asks, looking up.

The sky is the least painful place to look, he thinks, because the sky is always the same. It changes depending on the weather or the time, but it never has _scars_ across it, like people do. It's always _the sky_. It's never damaged by something as petty as a war.

And Theo has no reason to apologise. Theo has done _nothing_ wrong. Blaise knows it, and he knows that Theo knows it too.

Blaise was the one who listened to Theo rant _countless_ times about how the war was going to bring down _both_ sides. He listened to Theo talk about how the Dark Lord was wrong; someone couldn't steal magic at all, and people without magic weren't any less than them. Blaise was the one who saw Theo resist joining the Death Eaters at _any cost_ , to the point where Theo dreaded going home. To the point where Theo had started to come back to Hogwarts with bruises that he tried to hide from Blaise but Blaise saw anyway.

Blaise was the one who had joined the Death Eaters anyway.

Theo's not talking and Blaise looks down, turning to him. He wants to make sure that he didn't leave. That he's still there. He is. Blaise wishes that he'll just _answer_ Blaise's question, instead of subjecting them to this horrible silence. A silence that is _touching_ Blaise's bones. He's sure that it's touching Theo's, too.

"I left you," Theo whispers, finally shattering the quiet.

Blaise can't help it: he starts laughing. He starts laughing and it sounds broken at the start, like if a cracked jar could laugh. It starts to become clearer, though, because Blaise can't _believe_ Theo. Sometimes he thinks that Theo should have been a Hufflepuff instead of a Slytherin.

"Stop," Theo says, his voice just below a whisper.

Blaise laughs more anyway. His ribs almost ache, but there's something inside of him that _needs_ this. He needs to laugh. He didn't know he needed it until he started, but now he can't stop.

"Stop!" Theo says again, louder.

Blaise takes a deep breath at Theo's tone and slowly stops, looking over at Theo. His hands are visibly shaking. Blaise wants to take one, but he knows that they're past that point. He sobers up, though, as Theo wrings his hands, over and over again. It's a nervous tick of his that Blaise knows well; whenever Theo gets nervous, his hands start to sweat and he tries to wipe the sweat away. It happens when Theo thinks he's failed an exam he's _obviously_ aced, or when he's waiting for his father at Platform 9 ¾. Or now.

It sometimes hurts Blaise how well he knows Theo.

"I left you," Theo repeats, his voice cracking. He takes a deep breath, blinking hard, and Blaise is slightly shocked. He's only seen Theo like this once before — in their third year when Theo got a Howler from his father for leaving something at home. Blaise hasn't even seen Theo cry before — Theo has too much pride for that — but he looks pretty close to tears now. "I left you when I know how that feels. I know how it feels to be _alone_. I shouldn't have left you, especially in the middle of a _war_. What if you —" Theo pauses, turning to look at Blaise. His eyes are still dark, but they're glistening with tears. "What if I lost you for good?"

The question hangs in the air because Blaise doesn't have an answer. He's sobered up now. His laughter seems ages away.

Would it have even made an impact on anyone if he died? That's a question that haunts Blaise's thoughts _all the time_. Because Theo hates him. Because his mother doesn't care.

Because he was on the bad side, so his life isn't worth dirt.

"I'm sorry," Blaise says, the words almost getting stuck in his mouth. They taste weird in his mouth, like food that's gone bad. He furrows his brow as Theo turns away, showing Blaise the side of his face.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Theo says, his jaw locking. Blaise rolls his eyes. He knows he _did_ do something wrong. He also knows that Theo knows it too.

"Shut up. I have the bloody Dark Mark. I fought on the wrong side," Blaise says. The sky seems to open up and all of the guilt in the world starts to pour over Blaise because he's _right_.

Merlin.

Theo _told_ him. Theo _told_ him, with freaking proof on why everything the Dark Lord and his followers stood for was wrong. With proof, because Theo is _Theo._ Maybe he should have been a Gryffindor; he had enough opinions to fuel an army.

And Blaise was an idiot. Blaise thought that maybe, _maybe_ , he could join the Death Eaters and save everyone he loves. He could save and protect his mother and Theo and — well, there aren't many other people Blaise likes. Even now.

His mother didn't care about the war. Blaise's first mistake was even thinking that his mother needed any protection; she went through seven husbands and she's _still_ the toughest person Blaise knows. His mother can fight for herself. She told him that, once he had admitted what he did.

Theo called him an idiot when Blaise told him. Because Theo doesn't need protection either. Blaise can still hear Theo's words echoing in his ears — "The best protection you could've given me is just _sticking_ with me."

Will Theo's statement ever _stop_ haunting him?

Can Blaise ever come back from that? He fell, _so_ _hard_. Can he ever fix his mistakes? Probably not.

"Can we start over?" Theo says, taking a deep breath. "Goddammit, I wish we could just _start over_."

Theo slaps the ground to emphasise his point. Dust blows up around him, obscuring Blaise's view of him for a few seconds.

"I wish we could be eleven again and not have a care in the world and just try and redo everything," Theo says, running a hand through his hair.

He turns to look at Blaise again. His eyes are usually a vibrant green, a green that lights up like a peridot when he gets excited and turns as dark as jade when he's upset. They're jade-colored now, his brows furrowed in frustration. Blaise knows what he means, though, but it doesn't add up.

"You've been doing just fine in this life," Blaise tells him. There's something inside of him that's screaming at him to move closer to Theo, but he doesn't want to cross that bridge. Yet.

"I left you. I regret that. I don't think I could ever —" Theo hesitates, biting his lip. Blaise shakes his head.

"I'll give you a second chance, then. I forgive you for whatever you think you did," Blaise tells him, even though he doesn't really understand _why_ Theo has this guilt. Maybe he'll never understand.

"Then I give you a second chance too," Theo says. Theo's statement is _so simple_ , but it hits Blaise like a wrecking ball. A second chance? Blaise failed at everything. He doesn't deserve a second chance. "Just promise me that you'll stay by me," Theo adds.

"I've made that promise before, though," Blaise points out. It's true — Blaise promised that they'd be together forever when they went on their first date and when they had their first kiss and when they first slept together and, well… "And look at where we are now," he finishes with a sigh, looking forward again.

"Well, promises are the biggest lies in the world, you know."

And Blaise almost wants to laugh again because that sentiment is so utterly _Theo_. Who even says something something like that when trying to make a promise? Blaise knows that it sounds like Theo is trying to dissuade Blaise from making a promise, but he also knows that Theo is _Theo_ and will somehow twist it to make Blaise agree with him.

"Yet we keep on making them for some reason," Blaise tells him, sticking his chin out. He's Blaise. He knows that Theo will win whatever argument they're on the verge of, but he's going to fight anyway. " _You_ keep on insisting I make them to you when _you_ know I'll break them. That's the way it turns out, every single time."

Because Blaise has _never_ been able to keep a promise. Maybe it's his fatal flaw. Maybe he'll never outgrow it. Maybe that's what scares him.

He'd never admit it.

"I'd like to hope that maybe we'll start to tell the truth one day," Theo says, exhaling loudly. Blaise turns back to him. His eyes look calmer now, like a prehnite shade. Blaise could probably spend hours describing Theo's eyes. Instead of doing _that_ , he sighs again.

"That's a big hope."

Blaise is starting to realise, after this, after _everything_ , that maybe some hopes are too big to have. Maybe he can't keep his friends and family together. Maybe he can't make the right choices. Maybe he can't win any wars.

Maybe hope is for fools and knaves.

"Yeah, but as long as you're with me, I have a reason to keep on hoping." Theo sucks in his cheeks and moves closer to Blaise. Just _ever so slightly_. "Blaise, we all made mistakes during the war. It was a war. We need to move past that. We need to forgive ourselves."

Blaise lets out a snort. This is _so_ unbelievably cheesy.

"You geek. You cheesy geek," Blaise tells Theo. He doesn't want it to scrape further than his surface. He's _fine_ with it not hitting him because the truth is: he doesn't believe that he really deserves forgiveness. He _definitely_ doesn't.

"That's why you love me —" Theo replies, hesitating. "Or, _did_ love me," he adds, looking at Blaise with a type of shyness that brings Blaise back to first year. It's almost ridiculous.

Maybe it's a good type of ridiculousness. Maybe they need to be brought back to that time.

Looking deep into Theo's eyes, trying to find _something_ there, Blaise lets out a breath that he didn't realise he'd been holding.

Theo stretches out a hand. It's a tiny gesture, but Blaise stil watches it. It's his move now. They've played this aggravating game of chess a lot. He knows how it goes.

Instead of drawing away, which he _really_ wants to do — can he even take this chance? — he reaches out his hand, too, and grabs Theo's. Scooching closer, Blaise gives Theo's hand a single squeeze. He hopes it conveys enough. He hopes that maybe they _can_ start over. He hopes and he hopes and he hopes.

Okay, so maybe hope isn't _just_ for fools and knaves.

Leaning his head onto Theo's shoulder, Blaise looks up as the sun continues to rise and light falls over them.

Closing his eyes, he whispers, "I still do."

* * *

 _for:_

 _the houses competition [gryffindor, year 7, themed - promises are the biggest lies in the world]_

 _cocktail month [ice cream (one prompt)]_

 _national photography [monochrome photography]_

 _assignment 9 [mythology, task 9 - write about distrust]_

 _auction [geek]_

 _writing club [character appreciation - first; disney - can you feel the love tonight; shannon's showcase - finland; count your buttons - s5, p3; lyric alley - 13; sophie's shelf - dr orwell; emy's emporium - ogodel kahn]_


End file.
